A Friendly Disagreement
by Revan's Mask
Summary: Samantha Traynor thinks that Star Trek is better than Star Wars. Shepard disagrees and comes up with a creative way to persuade her girlfriend otherwise. A crack-y bit of femslash smut.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this comes from a crack-y prompt on the kink-meme, and while it isn't my usual pairing or style, it just got stuck in my head and I had to write it. (Anyway, the original prompt was for Sam and she makes way more sense than Liara in the story) ******Needless to say, it is not in canon with any of my other stories. ******I hope you enjoy the smut, and please consider leaving a review to let me know how you thought it came out.**

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><p>"And I'm saying your arguments aren't logical," Samantha Traynor insisted.<p>

"Not logical?!" Indignation dripped from Shepard's voice. Most of the time when she had a disagreement with her girlfriend, she was just as happy to concede in order to keep the peace, but this was different. This was a matter of principle. "You're the one who's not making sense, Sam," she insisted. "I mean, sure, Kira Nerys was pretty cool, but how does that mean that Star Trek is even remotely comparable to Star Wars?"

Samantha looked skeptically at her girlfriend. Though Shepard was a smart woman, she could have the dumbest taste in entertainment. "Star Trek is about the best in the human spirit. About solving problems with our brains. Star Wars is mostly a series of wildly implausible action sequences interspersed with fortune cookie wisdom."

"Wildly implausible action sequences!" Shepard threw up her hands in frustration. "You're talking to the woman who once drove a tank through a Mass Relay. Who beat up an eight foot tall yagh with her bare hands. Who got a giant thresher maw to take down up a Reaper. Star Wars is totally plausible. It's Star Trek that has ludicrous technical mumbo-jumbo as the answer to every problem."

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><p>Sam grabbed a pillow and shoved it into Shepard's face to stop the flow of blasphemy coming out of her mouth. "Hey, it was technical mumbo-jumbo that built the Crucible." Shepard grumbled through the pillow but Sam grinned. She just realized that she had a trump card. "Anyway, it was Star Trek that had the first lesbian kiss ever on television. Star Wars can't say that."<p>

Unfortunately, Shepard refused to give up, pushing aside the pillow. "First, maybe. But it was lame. They had to say she was body-switched or some nonsense like that. Give me Jania Solo and that Twi'lek dancer in Episode VIII any day of the week."

"Cheap exploitation!", Samantha protested.

"Hotter than anything on Star Trek!", Shepard countered.

Samantha got up from the couch in a huff. "Give it up, Commander. There is no way you'll ever convince me Star Wars is better than Star Trek."

We'll just see about that, Shepard thought to herself. Though she might be sleeping on that very couch tonight, she was already formulating a plan that guaranteed she'd win the argument in the end.

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><p>"I'm not exactly sure why I even agreed to do this," Samantha complained. "I mean, you're getting an opportunity to convince me of your point of view, but I don't get a fair chance to do the same."<p>

Of course, she'd be lying if she claimed she wasn't getting anything out of this scenario. The outfit she was wearing may have made Samantha feel rather silly, but the hungry way that Shepard was looking at her right then was already making wetness pool between her legs. Samantha took great pride in her ability to hold her own with her famous girlfriend, whether in conversation or in bed, but sometimes, it was more fun not to.

"I think you'll figure out what you're receiving soon enough." Shepard's voice was sharp, carrying a promise of pleasure but also a dangerous edge that always made Sam weak in the knees. "You belong to Jabba the Hutt now, princess, and since I'm the one in charge of managing his little toys, that means you belong to me as well."

"You'll never get away with this," Sam insisted, playing the defiant rebel hero. "My friends will rescue me."

"Maybe they will." Shepard smiled evilly. "But until they get here, you had better do what I say. Unless of course you'd rather someone else conducted the examination. Bib Fortuna perhaps?"

Sam's voice trembled slightly. "That won't be necessary."

"Good." Shepard smiled indulgently at that small display of obedience. "Now, lie back on the bed. I want to see what the master's newest acquisition looks like."

Samantha lay down and Shepard took a moment to savor the sight in front of her. She had spent far too much time as a teenager jilling off to the image of Carrier Fisher in that little gold bikini and seeing Sam chained by the neck to her bed in that very outfit was making her clit pulse against her underwear.

Of course, the physical resemblance wasn't that close. Ashley would be a much better match for the princess, but while that thought had a certain appeal, it was her girlfriend that she really wanted to see wearing it. As her eyes crawled over every inch of Sam's luscious curves, she reflected that the exorbitant price she paid for overnight shipping on the outfit was worth every credit.

As she walked slowly towards Samantha, the specialist thought that her girlfriend looked positively predatory. Clad in black pants and a black dress shirt with her red hair tied back in a severe pun, she wasn't exactly in costume but she did radiate intimidation. Looming above her, Shepard's pale finger moved slowly over the slight curve of Sam's stomach, her touch just light enough to be maddening.

"Very nice," Shepard grinned, tracing her way up Sam's chest and across the undersides of her breasts. A groan escaped Sam's lips, and Shepard's touch became rougher, squeezing her through the bra. In spite of herself, Samantha arched her back, trying to get Shepard to do more, but the Spectre pulled back. "Well, well," she chuckled, "Not so reluctant after all, are you? I like that, but you're getting ahead of yourself. An enthusiastic slave may be nice, but that's not what we keep you around for."

Shepard bent down, catching Sam's mouth for a harsh kiss, her tongue pushing past her girlfriend's lips while her hand caressed her naked brown back. The smaller woman leaned into the kiss, her enthusiasm evident, but before she could get too absorbed, Shepard tugged on her dark braid, pulling her back and shoving her down on the bed. "You have a sweet mouth. Now prove to me you know how to use it for more than just kissing."

"You're disgusting," Sam protested, but in truth she wasn't sure how long she would be able to keep up a pretense of resistance. Shepard looked so deliciously authoritative that the communications specialist couldn't wait to get her tongue on her.

Fortunately, her commander provided her with an excellent excuse to give in. "Princess," she grinned, her mocking tone able to make the title sound like an insult, "I'm the nicest person you'll find in this whole palace. If you want to talk about disgusting, I'd take a look at the gamorrean guards." Sam looked horrified, but Shepard added, "Don't worry. I'm sure a resourceful girl like you will be able persuade me to keep you far away from them."

"Strong argument," Sam admitted with a swallow, crawling her way back across the bed to kneel in front of Shepard. A firm hand grasped her head as she unfastened the Spectre's belt before pulling her shirt out of her slacks and planting a series of kisses on her lover's taut abdominal muscles.

"Quit stalling," Shepard growled, and Sam hastened to comply, pulling down her commander's black slacks and underwear. Sam breathed in the scent of her lover's arousal, the glistening wetness on her folds giving a vivid indication of how much this scenario was turning her on. Sam ran her tongue over the slick skin around her opening, and Shepard signaled her approval with a throaty moan, her hand pressing Sam's face against her sex. As Shepard's hand roughly stroked her hair, Sam's tongue delved inside her, drinking in her lover's rich flavor, a strong, musky taste that the communications specialist loved.

"That's better," Shepard hissed sarcastically, "But I do have a clit as well. I'd think you'd be familiar with it." Samantha reluctantly withdrew her tongue from Shepard's sex, exploring upwards. With two fingers, she drew back the hood and swiped her tongue across the swollen bud beneath it. Shepard groaned with pleasure as Sam licked her, and the specialist felt an odd rush of power. Though she was the one on her knees serving her ostensible master, above her she could feel the clenching of Shepard's thighs, the tightening of her abdominal muscles, the strained pleasure in her voice, and she was the cause of all of it.

"Good girl," Shepard growled. She reached down with her free hand, but unwilling to remove the golden bra she enjoyed seeing on Sam so much, she slipped her fingers underneath it instead. She rolled the rock –hard nipple she found there firmly between her thumb and forefinger, and her lover gasped around her clit.

"You like that, do you?", she laughed. "I'll bet you're just dripping wet, you sexy rebel slut, just dying for me to fuck you." Sam tried to nod in agreement, but Shepard's strong hand kept her head locked in place. "Oh no you don't. You keep up exactly what you're doing, and if you satisfy me, then maybe I can do something about your little problem."

Sam needed no further encouragement and as she resumed tracing circles across Shepard's clit with her tongue, she started to probe at her entrance with her finger, desperate to make her lover come so she could get her turn. Shepard was dripping wet and when she signaled her approval with a pat on the head, Sam slid first one and then two fingers inside her.

The commander's inner walls throbbed and even before Sam could start thrusting, Shepard began bucking her hips against her hand, setting her own hard, fast pace. The specialist tried her best to keep up, her fingers pushing against the front wall of her lover's pussy while her mouth licked frantically at her clit. Her own arousal was out of control, her aching body desperate for Shepard's attention on more than just her breast, but she knew she needed to be patient before she would get her reward.

Shepard's eyes started to shut as the pleasure overwhelmed her, but she forced herself to keep them open. The commander didn't want to lose the delicious sight of her girlfriend servicing her in that outfit. She growled with delight, holding back as best she could, but when her fingers massaged Sam's tits and the comm specialist moaned happily against her clit, the vibrations pushed her over the brink.

Sam felt her lover shudder with pleasure above her and she held on to Shepard's firm ass, steadying herself so she could keep attending to her through her orgasm. Shepard liked it when Sam drew out her climax, and the specialist obliged her, slowly stroking her inner walls until her lover's final shudders ceased.

Sighing contentedly, Shepard sat down on the bed next to Sam, gently stroking her lover's back. She was about to ask if her girlfriend was all right to continue, but when Sam looked up at her, pure, unbridled lust filling her brown eyes, the Spectre knew she already had her answer. Hardening her gaze, she looked over at the beautiful woman next to her. "Oh, you are good," she laughed harshly.

"So, does that mean I get to have my turn too?", Sam asked, her voice all innocent desire.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Shepard ran her fingers over Sam's cheek as she talked, the rich, husky sound of her voice sending shivers down the comm specialist's spine. "My face pressed against you, taking your desperate little clit into my mouth?" Sam could only nod, the arousing picture Shepard painted overwhelming her brain. "I don't think so," the commander said suddenly, shaking her head in mockery.

Sam leaned over, desperation filling her voice. "But you said…"

Shepard reached behind her and gave a little tug on Sam's chain, pulling her head away from her body. "I said I'd fuck you, and that's just want I intend to do. No one needs to know if a slave can have her pussy eaten, but I may not be the only one you need to satisfy." Sam's eyes widened in distress, and Shepard snarled, "Now turn around and get on your hands and knees unless you want to find out about that sooner rather than later."

"No, ma'am," Sam replied meekly, and while she did as she was bidden, Shepard shed the rest of her clothes and sauntered over to her dresser drawer. Reaching inside, she pulled out a thick, flesh-colored shaft but made no move to put it in just yet. Walking back over to the bed, Shepard unhooked Sam's chain and wrapped it around her hand. Sam whimpered as Shepard looked her up and down hungrily, "Please, I need…", she started to say, but Shepard only gave another tug on the chain.

"What you need is to work on your patience, slave," she chuckled. "I want to savor this." The commander reluctantly tugged off Sam's bikini bottoms, sad to lose that bit of the costume, but admiring the glistening wet pussy she found beneath more than compensated her. The smell of Sam's arousal filled her nose, and Shepard brushed her fingers lightly over the outer folds of her sex. "So," she asked, "Do you let your rebel friends fuck you like this? Get on your hands and knees for every smuggler and pirate that wants to have fun with your cute little body?"

"No," Sam replied, her voice trembling with unmet need. "I…I haven't. Not with any of them."

Shepard shrugged. "Their loss. Because unlike them, I intend to enjoy it quite thoroughly." She fitted the shorter end of the sex toy inside herself, setting it into place against her clit, the wetness from her orgasm letting it slide in effortlessly. She lined herself up behind Sam, positioning the head of the shaft just outside of her sex. The specialist groaned with lust when Shepard rubbed the tip over her wet entrance, but rather than slide inside immediately, the commander just moved it back and forth, teasing her lover mercilessly.

The specialist whimpered, the touch just enough to be enticing without satisfying the ache between her legs, but when she tried to press her hips back and take Shepard inside her, her lover's pushed her forward, moving her away from what she craved. A hand swatted her round little butt, and a harsh voice chided her, "Now, now, it's not a slave's job to dictate the pace. I really ought to leave you hanging a while longer to teach you that."

Samantha choked desperately, her desire overwhelming her self-control. "No, please, not that. I… I need you to fuck me now."

Her girlfriend was so adorable begging her for relief that Shepard decided to take pity on her. "I suppose, since you were such a good little pussy eater early, we can overlook that one mistake."

The specialist sighed with relief and as Shepard slid forward, Sam took her easily, her wetness letting Shepard move almost all the way inside of her in a single stroke. The commander was immediately rewarded with a scream of pleasure but she waited a moment before she continued, letting her lover become accustomed to the thick shaft inside her. While she ran her hands over the soft skin of Sam's hips, she felt her lover's inner walls flutter around her. The sex toy translated the pressure and friction applied to it into pleasurable pulses to her clit, allowing Shepard to properly appreciate the tightness of her adorable girlfriend.

"More," Sam pleaded, the momentary relief she found in being filled fading rapidly, replaced by renewed craving. Thankfully, Shepard began moving inside her, her slow thrusts dragging along Sam's inner walls as she went even deeper into her pussy. Sam's earlier pretenses of reluctance had totally collapsed by now as the specialist screamed herself hoarse and the sounds she made as much as the stimulation of her own clit were driving Shepard wild as well.

The commander sped up the pace of her fucking, taking Sam as hard and fast as she could. In spite of her meek appearance, her lover could be insatiable and the delays Shepard had subjected her to had pushed her almost to the point of insanity. Shepard felt herself crashing towards another climax, but she wasn't quite ready to come yet, wanting to stay in control until Sam was satisfied.

To distract herself, she slipped back into character, caressing Sam's soft ass and slowing down her thrusts. "You're pretty good at this, princess," she laughed, stopping altogether for a moment. "Are you sure you don't like getting fucked by your rebel friends?"

"No, I," Sam forced out, willing to say anything as long as Shepard started taking her again. "It's just you that I want to fuck me."

"Oh, you are a treat," Shepard grinned, gradually resuming the motion of her hips. She pressed her digits along Sam's back, stopping just short of her asshole, before reaching around to brush the tips of her fingers lightly over her lover's throbbing clit.

"Please," Sam pleaded, and Shepard rewarded her with the press of her hand against the swollen point. Sam's pussy squeezed her tighter and Shepard sped up her thrusts, rubbing her even as she did.

"You may just be too good to share," Shepard suggested, pressing deeper into Sam. "I may have to see if Jabba will let me keep you all to myself. Would you like that," she asked, "To be my little slut, princess? To wait for me at home and satisfy me whenever I want?"

Sam couldn't reply. The combination of the pressure on her clit and the words Shepard was saying, the Spectre's possessive desire to keep her all to herself, pushed the specialist over the edge. Her body jerked and went rigid in Shepard's arms, her hands clutching at the sheets, and as her channel spasmed orgasmically around her shaft, the pulse it produced sent the Spectre tumbling after her. Shepard's inner walls pulsed around the toy and she pushed as deeply as she could go inside Samantha.

The hard thrust along with the ecstatic groan coming from her girlfriend caused a second climax to crash on top of Sam's first. She was pretty sure she yelled something incredibly obscene, but she couldn't even tell what it was, her brain lost in a fog of lust. Overwhelmed by her pleasure, only the powerful grip of the Spectre's hands kept her from collapsing entirely.

As her orgasm ebbed and rational thought resumed, Shepard slowly eased Sam off of her shaft and unhooked the chain from her collar before laying her girlfriend gently down onto the bed. Taking out the toy, she put it on the nightstand and lay next to Sam, her strong arms enfolding the little specialist. Her girlfriend purred happily as the Spectre placed a series of small kisses along her neck, and her warm body snuggled further into Shepard's embrace.

"So?", she asked coyly, lightly nibbling the communication specialist's earlobe.

"So what?", Sam replied, matching Shepard's playfulness with her own evasion.

"So have I made my point?"

"Well," Sam laughed, "That was bloody incredible."

"See, I told you," Shepard started to boast, but Sam cut her off.

"But I still say Star Trek is better then Star Wars."

Shepard's green eyes widened with surprise. "You have got to be kidding me?", she sputtered. "Have you ever been fucked liked that in a Star Fleet uniform? I swear Sam, I have half a mind to chain you back to this bed and keep this up all weekend until you see the light."

Sam grinned with delight at the thought. "Make it so."


	2. Chapter 2

**By popular demand, Sam gets to make her case as well. But will Shepard prove equally stubborn? Hope you like it.**

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><p>Samantha Traynor gave the knots a final tug, making certain that they were secure before stepping back to admire her handiwork. A week ago when Shepard demanded to know if she'd ever been fucked like that in a Starfleet uniform, it had gotten her thinking, and while technically, she might not have been the one wearing it right then, someone was definitely going to get fucked. Looking at the great Commander Shepard, her hands and feet bound to one of their dinning room chairs, ready for Sam to do anything she wanted with her, the communications specialist could already feel her arousal building.<p>

Starring hungrily at Samantha, Shepard couldn't keep a grin off her lips. While the fake pointed ears may have looked a bit silly to the Spectre, combined with the uniform, they gave a her lover a quality both alien and alluring. A half red, half beige top, a pleasingly short skirt, and thigh-high leather boots: though it wasn't always easy for the commander to play the sub, this promised to be fun.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?", she asked, and a smile crossed the specialist's face as she nodded.

"Lt. Shepard," she snapped, giggling internally at having just demoted her lover, "You have been found in the territory of the Romulan Star Empire, your ship having illegally violated the neutral zone." It was really hard to keep from smirking. Sam had never realized until now quite how dirty that phrase sounded.

"What's your point, Sub-Commander Traynor?", Shepard growled defiantly. She had no intention of making this easy for her girlfriend.

"My point," Sam said coldly, "Is that you belong to the Empire now. And there is information that we require from you."

"I won't betray Starfleet," Shepard insisted, though she added to herself, "Not unless you give me a particularly good reason to."

"So you say. For now, we'll start with something easy." She stepped closer to the Spectre, letting Shepard breath in her scent. "We need to know what the finest example of your late 20th century science fiction was." Though she hadn't revealed this particular detail of the game in advance, Sam was relishing the chance to use her current position to win the argument that had been raging for the last week.

"Why would you need to know that?", Shepard asked suspiciously. If Sam wanted to play cute with this, she was up for it too.

Damn it, Sam cursed to herself. Why would she ask that? She took a breath. When in doubt, cheat. She slapped Shepard across the face. "That is the business of the Empire. I only require your answer."

Shepard laughed. "I've been hit harder then that on shore leave." When they first experimented with this, Sam had been mortified by the thought of slapping her, but Shepard explained that for someone who'd once been shot by Harbinger, it was just a love tap. "But since it's such an obvious question, I'd be happy to answer. It was Star Wars."

"Incorrect," Sam snapped, hitting her lover again. "We know that is not the truth."

"Well, if all you've got for me is a little slap and tickle, then all you're going to get is Star Wars."

"I see," Sam said, practically gleeful at the plan taking shape in her mind. "Other Starfleet officers have also proven resistant to that particular form of interrogation in the past. But they all still talked in the end. As you will see, I can be quite persuasive."

She bent down and started running her hands over Shepard's bare knees. "I find your Federation to be most intriguing. Most of the time, it pretends that it is morally superior to everyone else." Her hands made their way up past the knees, caressing her lover's strong thighs. "And yet, it dresses its female officers like this."

Shepard had to agree. What kind of a military had its women wear these ridiculous mini-dresses? Right now, though, she wasn't going to complain, sighing happily as Sam's warm hands rubbed her skin, slowly pushing back the red fabric. The specialist stopped well short of the best parts though, instead bending further over, her breath hot on Shepard's ear, her clothed breasts tantalizingly close to the Spectre's face. "Have I hit a nerve?"

Shepard didn't reply, so Sam pushed aside her red hair and ran her tongue slowly over the outer edge of her ear, eliciting a low moan from her lover. "You have all those silly rules about fraternization, and then you walk around in these outfits, teasing each other with what you're not allowed to have." She and Shepard had broken a few such rules themselves during the war, but sod it, the world had been about to end anyway.

"Those rules are there to ensure, ah, good discipline," Shepard managed to get out as Sam's fingers glided down the curve of her neck before running along her bare collarbone.

"Good discipline?", the specialist asked incredulously. "All that denial does is leave you panting and desperate, easy prey for someone without your ridiculous hang-ups." She returned one of her hands between Shepard's legs, this time completing her journey. Sam ran her fingers lightly over Shepard's clothed sex, and raised an eyebrow when she brushed against a thin bit of silky black fabric. "Are you going to try and tell me those are regulation?"

"No, they're all me," Shepard admitted, eager for Sam to increase the pressure on her and hopeful that the truth would encourage her to do so. Instead, she got only a single electric stroke of her lover's hand before the specialist withdrew it.

"Ready to give me the information I need?", Sam asked coyly, her fingers lazily stroking Shepard's neck, enjoying the goose bumps she raised on the bare flesh there.

"Star Wars," was all the Spectre replied. Her clit may have been throbbing, but she wasn't some horny teenager. Sam was going to have to work a lot harder than that to win their argument.

Fortunately, the specialist seemed up to the challenge. Her hand snaked beneath the low-cut mini-dress, cupping one of Shepard's firm, pale breasts in her hand. The pink nipple poked rock hard against her palm and Sam rubbed slow circles over it, teasing Shepard with her touch. Her lover's breathing grew sharper, her craving for more evident, but Sam removed her hand, leaving the Spectre's other, straining nipple, intensely frustrated at the lack of attention.

Sam smirked at the sight of Shepard pushing against the ropes. There was no way she could make a toughed Spectre beg by going hard at her. A softer touch on the other hand… Well, she had her hopes. Stretching seductively, she walked across the room and took a seat in a chair opposite her lover. "I see you're going to make this difficult, Lieutenant. That's fine; we have all night for you to see the error of your ways."

Keeping her brown eyes locked with Shepard's green ones, she slowly unbuttoned her uniform jacket, revealing her red bra underneath, her hands running over her smooth, brown stomach. Teasing the beautiful Spectre had lit a fire in her own body, and she could use some release before she continued, release that Shepard wouldn't share until she played nice.

Shepard swallowed hard as she watched Sam unhook her bra and let it fall to the ground. Her dark brown nipples were hard beneath it, and Traynor brought her thumbs up to them, stroking the tips slowly. Samantha purred with obvious satisfaction as she began to touch herself and a "Fuck," slipped out of Shepard's mouth. The communications specialist was far from innocent, but she did look it, and the contrast between that adorable appearance and the sight of her pleasuring herself was intoxicating.

Watching with delight as Shepard fought a losing battle to keep her arousal off of her face, Samantha unfastened her skirt and reached her hand down, moving it underneath her red, lacey underwear. She slid her fingers over her entrance, finding it unsurprisingly wet. The intensity in Shepard's gaze, the strain in her breath, the knowledge of what she desperately wanted to be doing to and for and with Samantha: all of it was a fierce turn-on for the faux Romulan.

Sam slipped inside herself, coating her digits in her own slickness before pressing them up against her clit. She shuddered with pleasure, letting out an exaggerated moan for Shepard's benefit.

In grave danger of choking on her own saliva, Shepard strained against the ropes holding her to the chair. Although unable to see what was going on, she could just picture Sam's hand caressing her swollen sex, and she desperately wanted those fingers to be touching her instead. She tried to squeeze her thighs together to get herself some measure of relief, but the ropes around her legs wouldn't let her do it. The slight friction she achieved only made her crazier, and from the devilish look in Traynor's eyes, her lover was enjoying every second of her suffering.

Sam finished sliding her skirt off of her hips along with her panties in order to give her bound lover a better view of what she was doing. She kept her strokes slow and deliberate, keeping her own pleasure under control even as she tried to drive Shepard crazy. "Enjoying the show?", she asked in a low whisper, bringing two fingers up to her lips to moisten them before caressing her clit once more.

Shepard didn't reply, unable to trust her own reactions, and Sam continued, "This could be you, you know. Give me the intelligence I need, and I'll be happy to take care of that desperate ache I know is building up inside of you. You'd like that wouldn't you my hot little Starfleet trollop? You'd like me to crawl between your legs, push up that short skirt, pull aside your panties and run my tongue all over your clit."

When her lover's eyes bulged wider, Sam knew she should keep going. "Or maybe that's not to your taste. Maybe," she offered, slowly pushing open the tight ring of muscle at her entrance and probing into herself, "You'd rather I fucked you. You'd rather feel my fingers deep inside your pussy, stroking you as you pulsed around me."

Shepard felt like she was going to explode with desire, and despite her best efforts, the word "Yes," forced its way out from between her lips. "Jesus fucking Christ yes!"

Hearing the desperation in Shepard's voice was too much for Sam. Pressing her palm against the head of her clit, she came hard, a sharp gasp of her own accompanying her orgasm. Watching Sam's thighs clench around her hand, her body shaking with pleasure, Shepard's cybernetically enhanced muscles almost snapped the arms of the chair clean off. Summoning every ounce of her iron will, she took a deep breath to settle herself down and focus on what she had to do, but though she managed to take the edge off of her craving, she was still half-crazed with desire, uncertain of how much longer she could hold out.

When her shudders ceased, Sam got back to her feet, shrugging off the remains of her uniform and leaving herself clad in only her high leather boots. Walking back over to Shepard, she let out a satisfied sigh, emphasizing that relief that could be Shepard's if she would just behave. "I am glad to hear some honesty out of you at last," she declared. "I think that deserves a small reward."

Kneeling down, Sam reached up between Shepard's legs and slid her panties off of her. They were soaked with her arousal, and Sam grinned mischievously. "I see you were being truthful." She pushed the hem of the mini-dress up to Shepard's waist, allowing her easier access, and she started planning kisses on the tops of her captive's thighs.

As welcome as she could tell the contact was, in her needy state, her lover needed more, and Sam leaned down and placed a single wet kiss on the shaft of Shepard's throbbing clit. The Spectre let out a sharp cry of pleasure and Sam could tell how close to the edge her little show had pushed her lover, how easy it would be for her to send the commander over.

But not quite yet. Not until she got what she wanted. Sam stood up, but she replaced her mouth with her hand, letting her fingers rest lightly on Shepard's clit, a promise of more pleasure if she complied. "So, to return to the question at hand," she said calmly, as if her digits were not ever so lightly caressing her lover's bud, "What is the best example of late 20th century Earth science fiction?"

Shepard looked up at her, desperation clear in her green eyes. "Star…", she gasped.

"Yes, my dear?", Sam asked. She could hear the ragged edge in Shepard's voice. She was certain she had her.

Just a little longer. "Star Wars." It took every ounce of discipline she could find, but Shepard managed to say the words, even knowing what would come next.

Gah! Sam growled with frustration and pulled her fingers off of Shepard, stomping away from her lover. Tapping her heel with frustration on the floor as she waited for a change of heart, she snorted, "Just how long do you think you can hold out, you damn Federation tramp?"

"Long enough."

The words sounded strong and confidant, and Sam swallowed hard before turning slowly around. Somehow, Shepard had gotten free of the ropes and now her lover was standing directly behind her, a look of unparalleled hunger on her face. Sam shivered as Shepard grabbed her, pulling her naked body into her arms for a ferocious kiss.

A tongue slid past her lips, and despite her urge to complain that Shepard was breaking the rules, Samantha rapidly found herself swept away in the sheer passion of her lover's embrace. A strong hand massaged her breast and she heard herself moaning into Shepard's mouth. Despite the fun she had had putting on that show for her girlfriend, she was too turned on for it to have sated her fully and she was desperate for the pleasure that she knew Shepard could give her.

Satisfied that Sam was enjoying her turning of the tables, Shepard interlaced their legs, grinding her aching clit against her lover's skin even as she pushed her own thigh against the specialist's damp sex. It had taken some doing to get free of the ropes, particularly without Sam noticing, but her infiltrator training served her well, and the specialist had been good enough to distract herself a few times.

Feeling Sam wet against her leg, Shepard couldn't stop herself from doing more, dropping two fingers down to penetrate her lover. Sam whimpered, "How?", and Shepard growled, "Never underestimate Starfleet training. And now," she added with a hint of menace, "I think you have some promises to make good on."

Unwilling to risk doing anything that might cause Shepard to stop her thrusts inside her, Samantha hastened to reciprocate. Her fingers went to her lover's clit and Shepard pressed forward, trapping the digits between their bodies. Her movements against the specialist's body were frantic, and feeling the desperate need to come she had instilled in her lover alleviated some of Sam's disappointment at failing to make Shepard concede their argument.

In truth, Shepard had been minutes away from giving up and telling Sam what she wanted to hear, and now she was almost past the point of rational thought. The specialist's small hand stroking her needy, throbbing clit felt so unbelievably good and she knew she couldn't last long. Pressing her clothed breasts against Sam's bare ones, she sped up the pace of her thrusts, and as she felt Sam's inner walls pulse around her fingers, she realized that she wouldn't need to.

Samantha buried her head in the Spectre's shoulder, letting out a series of short, sharp cries as she was taken. As much as she'd enjoyed toying with Shepard, the raw lust that she had unleashed thrilled her even more. When her lover's fingers dragged along a particularly sensitive spot on her inner wall, Sam bit down, her teeth sinking into the tight muscles of her shoulder, and her fingertips pushed hard on the Spectre's clit.

The extra pressure on her was too much for Shepard's thoroughly teased body, and she screamed, letting loose an orgasmic cry that practically deafened Sam. Shepard's strong fingers gripped her back, pulling her closer, and Traynor slumped into her girlfriend, her climax overwhelming her as her inner muscles pulsed around the fingers thrusting deep inside of her.

As desperately needed relief flooded through her body, Shepard's legs started to give out and rather than fight it, she pulled Sam down with her onto the thick carpeting beneath them. The two lovers collapsed in a heap of sweaty arms and legs, holding each other tightly as they rode the waves of their pleasure together.

Lying panting in Shepard's arms, Sam's brain started to reassert itself enough for her to remember that she should be annoyed. "That may have been bloody wonderful," she protested weakly, nipping at the Spectre's throat, "But it was also cheating."

"Oh was it?", Shepard laughed, stroking her hand through Sam's black hair.

"Absolutely," Sam insisted. "You know damn well that I was supposed to be the Romulan interrogator and you were supposed to be the Starfleet prisoner."

"Well, then," Shepard teased, planting a kiss on her lips, "I guess you don't know your Star Trek very well." Sam started to sputter out an angry response to that grave insult, but Shepard cut her off. "After all," she pointed out, "Doesn't the Starfleet officer always escape?"

Sam slumped into Shepard's embrace. Though the frustrated competitor in her wanted to complain further, her inner nerd knew that the Spectre was absolutely right. She should have seen that move coming. With acceptance came peace, however, and she returned Shepard's kiss. "Come on," she smiled. "Let's get me out of these boots and go to bed." While their argument may have been destined to remain a draw, that didn't mean they both couldn't win at other things.


End file.
